From the Ashes
by evergreenlove
Summary: Frey has always viewed Leon as a kind, if not slightly exasperating, older brother figure. However, feelings of a different nature begin to grow between them when someone tries to murder Frey and Leon is appointed as her 24/7 guard. Assassination attempts, bad hair days, nonstop teasing - oh my! Will these two ever get their act together? Slow build LeonxFrey.
1. Prologue

**From the Ashes**

 **by** _evergreenlove_

 **.:prologue:.**

* * *

When asked how their relationship began, Leon likes to answer that everything started from one very hot and frantic night. Frey usually slaps him upside the head, flustered and blushing, but doesn't do much else to correct him because, well. His raunchy phrasing aside, he's not technically wrong.

Everything started with The Fire.

* * *

"-EY! ARE – IN THER – CAN – HEAR US?"

"FREY!"

"PRIN - SS!"

Frey wakes abruptly, jolting upright in her bed and hacking violently. She fights down her panic and confusion and tries to take a good look around – but it's no use. Thick, stormy smoke fills the entirety of her room and she can't even see two feet in front of her. The air has become dense and almost tangible, an unrelenting wave of heat that makes it very difficult to breathe.

Gasping and still coughing, Frey tries to remember if her amnesiac brain includes any lessons on how to survive when trapped in a burning building. Nothing comes to mind, except for the very obvious thought that fires are bad and she needs to leave the castle now, if she wants to live.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed is easy, but getting them to actually support her weight is nearly impossible. With a strangled cry, she crumples to the floor, feeling weak and lightheaded. She wonders just how long she was breathing in smoke before she woke up.

There's no helping it – Frey begins to crawl in the direction of her front door. Cries of "Frey" and "Princess" are coming through from the courtyard area, frantic and desperate. She lets them motivate her.

The air around her is oppressive from the heat, and she can see licks of fire, pure red and malicious, in her peripheral vision. The unnatural vibrancy of the flames is something she's quite familiar with – she practices daily with fire magic after all. Does that mean someone did this on purpose…?

Her thoughts cut off abruptly as something _heavy_ crashes down on her back, and she's forced flat to the floor. White-hot pain lances from her left side and steals the breath right from her lungs. Sputtering on pain and smoke, she turns her head to see just what knocked her down. A sizable lump of rubble from the ceiling lies partially on top of her. Smaller pieces are beginning to fall and pelt her prone form. The whole room looks about to collapse.

Tears course down her cheeks. Whether from sheer panic or the grit in her eyes or maybe both, Frey isn't sure. Gritting her teeth and pushing up from the ground, she manages to slip out from under the chunk of ceiling. Her left side from her hip down is raw with pain and her leg drags terribly when she tries to crawl forwards. She moves closer to the door at the pace of a snail, but she doesn't let herself stop because if she does, she doubts she'd start back up again.

"PRINCESS!" She hears very faintly. That's weird, the shouts were so loud just a few minutes ago. Is the smoke muffling the sound that badly? Or maybe… is it that she's… she's losing strength…?

Frey shakes her head, using her now soot-stained hands smack her cheeks. Now is not the time to lose focus! She's so close to the exit, just a little bit more...!

With huge, staggering lunges, she crawls to her front door, tipping over and out into the courtyard. Even outside, all she can see is fire, it's _everywhere_ , in front of her like a veritable wall. Some of the flames are whipping around as if alive, reaching out to her, burning her – but then -

"GraaaaAAAHHHHHH!" Volkanon's mighty war cry pierces the roar of the flames, and a huge jet of water erupts into the air. A section of the fire directly in front of her is doused under the onslaught, and through the opening, Frey can only just make out the shadowy silhouettes of people running toward her.

"PRINCESS!" a familiar voice cries out. A few of the figures reach her side and rapidly give out orders above her prone body.

"Vishnal, can you carry her?"

"I-I'll do my best! Hang in there, Princess!"

"Stay with us, damn it!"

"Hey, Frey?!"

* * *

 _Hey there! Thanks for checking out my story! The first chapter is already completed and will be up in just a few days. As a general note, this will be a slow build LeonxFrey story with a hint of adventure tossed in there. I hope you enjoyed this first bit and are willing to tag along for the rest of the ride!_

 _Please drop me a line if you have a free mo,_

 _All my love,_

 **evergreenlove**

 _PS: For any possible_ Homestead _fans out there... sorry for the frankly terrible hiatus (3 years... yikes, I am so so so sorry). It is NOT abandoned, and my love for ChelseaxVaughn is still going strong. It's just taking me a while to get back into the rhythm of that story; I expect Chapter 8 to be up in a few weeks now that I'm writing again!_


	2. Anchor

**From the Ashes**

 **by** _evergreenlove_

 **.:chapter 1:.**

* * *

Returning to consciousness is a slow and hazy process. Her hearing, though muffled, comes back to her first; a wave of low, concerned mutters let her know that wherever she is, she isn't alone. Her body feels too heavy and the skin of her left hip and leg are sore and throbbing with pain. Even the act of breathing feels sharp and difficult.

"Frey, can you hear me?"

"N-Nancy?" she coughs, eyes fluttering open. The bright white lights of the Tiny Bandage Infirmary make her head ache and she winces.

"Jones! She's awake!" she hears Nancy call, heels clacking as she hurries away. In response to her announcement, a large collection of voices starts talking loudly all at once.

"Frey, are you back with us?" Jones asks, his voice gentle but firm.

"- I think so," Frey says hoarsely. "What - Who is -?"

"Do you know where you are and what happened?" he asks urgently, carefully checking the size of her pupils and their response to light stimuli.

She croaks out, "'M in the clinic... I think. Was there... there was a fire, right?"

"Yes, good." Jones gives her a reassuring smile before darting around the curtain over to the main entrance of the clinic where the bulk of the chatter seemed to be coming from. "She's awake and seems to be somewhat coherent. I know that you all are a bit worried, but you need to either quiet down or wait outside."

"May we visit her?" Frey hears Blossom ask.

"Well..."

"It might be a comfort to her," Nancy says.

Jones sighs, "Alright. Just for a few minutes. And let's all be conscious not to overwhelm her."

The sound of the curtain being drawn back grates on her ears, but it's worth the momentary discomfort when a small crowd of her friends and family gather around her bed. Blossom, Doug, Meg, Leon, and Kiel all look at her with a mixture of concern and relief on their faces.

"Thank goodness you're alright," Blossom says, patting the back of Frey's hand very softly.

Jones shuffles into the space between Meg and Kiel, offering up a small serving of a potion to Frey. Sipping tentatively, she audibly sighs when the cool potion goes down easy, soothing her raw throat.

"How are you feeling?" Doug asks loudly.

"Shh, you're basically yelling at her!"

"Wha-? Ow, sorry, Frey," Doug says, rubbing his side where Meg had just elbowed him. He asks a bit more meekly, "But, uh, seriously, how are you feeling?"

She offers up a weak smile. "O... okay. What... what exactly happened? How long have I been out?"

Jones moves further down her bedside, channeling a bit of healing magic through his hands on her injured side. "It's been just a few hours or so," he answers, "We were able to heal most of the major injuries on your left hip and thigh while you were unconscious. You'll still have some bruising there for a few days, so don't strain yourself too much, but you should be able to walk, if a little stiffly. I'm trying to clean up the worst of the burns now..."

Frey begins to drift again, the easy rhythm of Jones' words allowing her to zone out.

"Seems out of it -"

"Poor thing."

"Someone needs to guard her -"

"-targeted attack-"

"-Forte can't, she's trying to track down the culprit-"

"I'll watch over her," Leon interrupts loudly as he shoulders his way next to her. Frey can barely hear his voice over the crackle of flames. But wait. That isn't right. She's out of the fire now. Why can she still hear it so clearly...?

"Come on, Frey," the guardian of Leon Karnak says gently, bending down and placing her left arm around his neck. Fluidly, he stands, bringing her limp body up against his. She wobbles dangerously on her feet, even with his support.

Leon's lips thin. "Alright, you all can be my witnesses that she actually needs my help, and I'm not doing this to take advantage or tease her." Frey vaguely understands that he's saying this not to her, but to the rest of the group - but everything feels so distant, so abstract, she hardly cares who he's speaking to or even what he's really saying.

He steps in closer and scoops her up with his free arm, smoothly transitioning his support hold into a bridal carry. Normally she would flush and demand to be put down, but honestly, it's just a relief that she doesn't have to hold her own weight anymore.

The smooth movements of Leon's steps lull her into a light doze. Everything seems a blur. It isn't until she's deposited onto an unfamiliar bed that she feels her awareness of her surroundings start to kick back in.

"Wha...?"

"Frey?"

"Yes...?" She replies, perking up a bit.

"Good to see you looking a little more with it," Leon says as he takes a seat next to her. His tone is warm and teasing, like normal, but his face wears a sober expression. He stares intently at her. "I thought for sure you'd yell at me and hit my shoulder once I started carrying you, but you were really zoned out."

Frey can only look back at him, helplessly. The sound of fire that had droned persistently in her ears finally dies down, and the quiet of room seems almost oppressive in its place. "Leon... where are we?" She tries to look around, to see if she can recognize her surroundings, but her body refuses to cooperate. All she can do is stare into his face, drawn by his gaze. He is her anchor and yet, she still feels like she is drowning.

"You're in the spare room at Lin Fa's inn," he replies as he reaches out to her. He moves slowly, cautiously. His large, warm hands grasp her own and anchor her even more firmly. "I'm not going to ask how you are. I think we both know that's a complicated, loaded question. But I do think I should ask you if you'd rather be alone tonight I can still guard you from my own room, if need be."

"No!" she answers in a panic, her hands pulling out from under his to lock around his wrists. "No, I don't want to be by myself. Please stay!"

"Alright," he says. This is where he would usually send her a teasing smirk and say something inappropriate about her asking him to stay overnight. Instead, he gently tugs at her grip. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving for long. I just want to grab a few things from my room - it's the next room over, Frey."

She stares wide eyed as he quickly jogs out the door. It's as if his departure jolts her fully back to the land of the living. All at once, she is very aware of how dirty she is - the soot and ash have layered thickly over her nightgown and her bare skin. The tip of her right ponytail is singed badly, and the smell of burnt hair is overwhelming. The palms of her hands and her knees are badly scuffed from her desperate crawl across her room. Everything begins to throb and twinge and _hurt_.

A small knock at the door startles her slightly.

"Y-yes?" she calls throatily, voice still rough from smoke inhalation.

"Frey? It's Lin Fa and Xiao Pao. Can we come in?"

"Yes," she replies, a little bit more strongly.

The older woman walks in, laden with a tray of tea accoutrements and a small bowl of snacks, as well as several towels thrown over her arm. Xiao Pao holds a large pitcher and a bundle of clothing under her arm.

"Leon is just getting some stuff from his room," Xiao Pao says, trying to smile. "He told us you would need some new pajamas for tonight, so I brought you an extra set from Mama's closet. You're too tall to fit in mine."

Frey accepts the pajama top and pants gratefully. Her entire body feels dusty and dirty and suddenly, all she wants is to change out of her soiled clothes. Lin Fa places the tray down and gently nudges her daughter back over to the door.

"We'll leave you to get changed and settled," she says softly. "Frey... I'm so sorry this happened to you. Please let us know if you need anything at all."

The gentle apology hits Frey hard in the chest, knocking the air out of her. It's the first direct acknowledgment of what transpired tonight, what she just survived. She manages a small nod and barely notices as Lin Fa exits - Xiao Pao stumbles over the doorway, but Frey isn't paying attention.

Quickly, she pulls off her nightclothes and pours a healthy amount of water from the pitcher onto one of the towels. It takes a few minutes of hard scrubbing to get the worst of the black smudges off her arms and legs, and some don't disappear entirely. She uses a fresh towel on her face and rubs until the mirror in the room shows her a clean, if not raw, face.

Frey sits back down on the bed and casts a quick look to the wall separating her room from Leon's. Gingerly, she slips into Lin Fa's pajamas. Her left leg feels bruised and clumsy with pain; maneuvering it into the pant leg is not an easy affair and costs her most of her remaining energy. Not even bothering to unbutton the pajama top, Frey slips the shirt right over her head.

The scent of Lin Fa hits her immediately. She never realized the woman even wore a fragrance in the first place, but it's unmistakable now - her clothes smell sweet and flowery, probably a scent made from a combination of Lin Fa's favorite bath oils. It replaces the smell of smoke and burnt wood, helping to ground Frey in the present.

Feeling a bit calmer, she tugs at her pigtails until her hair is completely down. The damage is worse than she guessed, one side of her hair very obviously singed and shorter than the rest. Pouting, she runs a comb through it quickly to get the worst of the knots and debris out.

A knock on the door. "Hey. You decent in there?"

"Yes," Frey replies, watching silently as Leon bustles back into the room. The robe he had been wearing before must have been dirty from carrying her, because he had replaced it with a simple t-shirt and flannel pants. Waves of fine silver hair fall down his back, free from the usual constraints. There's something oddly vulnerable about him in this moment and it takes Frey a good minute or so before she realizes what is so different - he's left his fan behind. She has never seen him without it before, not even the few times that she's had to visit him early in the morning or late in the evening.

Leon gives her a small smile. "Well, don't you look adorable."

Frey stares at him blankly. Amused, he gestures at her own pajamas, which, she realizes belatedly, she is absolutely swimming in. Lin Fa is a tall and beautifully curved woman and Frey is... well, not quite on that level.

She giggles a little hysterically. "Um, yeah. It was either Lin Fa's pajamas or Xiao Pao's, so." Shrugging, she toys with one of the big purple buttons on her sleeve.

"It's a good look on you," he says, and she can't tell if he's joking or not. A moment later, the bed shifts under his weight; he moves to lounge casually at the other end of the mattress, back pressed up against the wall that the bed is butted up against, his long legs laying out in front of him. Frey mimics his pose, sitting up by the wall less than a foot away from him.

Leon huffs softly and wraps his arm around her shoulders, dragging her closer. Squeaking, Frey's head snaps up to reprimand him for his attempt at flustering her, but stops short. His gaze is fixed on the doorway on the opposite side of the room, his face showing no signs of teasing or his usual prankster nature.

"Cuddling is good for the soul, you know," he says, finally glancing down at her sprawled against his chest. He smiles, but she knows he's holding her to comfort them both. It's in the way his arm is a tight band around her back, his grip on her shoulder too intense to be casual.

She relaxes into him with a sigh and feels the soft, worn fabric of his shirt against her cheek. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, she finally feels a small measure of peace. It's enough to let her mind finally drift back to some of the thoughts she had while fighting to escape. "I think someone started that fire on purpose," she says quietly into his collarbone, hushed like a secret.

Leon turns to stare at her. He looks upset, but not surprised. "I think so too." The admission makes her sad - she doesn't want to be right about that - but it also makes something hard unclench in the pit of her stomach to hear someone else agree. "Enchanted flames have a distinct color and movement to it. And did you notice how the fire tried to follow you outside, like it was almost sentient? It definitely wasn't natural."

Frey shudders as she begins to remember.

"But," she struggles to articulate, "but why? Why would someone do this?"

Frowning, Leon squeezes her tightly, then pulls away to bring the tray of snacks and tea over. He settles it neatly on the comforter and adds the homemade tea bags to the two cups Lin Fa provided. As he begins steeping the leaves, a rich and slightly bitter smell fills the room.

"Thanks," Frey says, accepting the proffered cup and taking a small sip. The tea nearly scalds her tongue, but she continues to drink it, bit by bit. As long as she keeps herself occupied, she doesn't have to acknowledge the tremors in her hands.

"In answer to your question," Leon says then hesitates. "I don't know who did this or what motives they could possibly have. But it does seem clear that this attack was aimed at you specifically." He looks at her carefully, gauging her reaction.

Frey straightens her back and lifts her chin, trying to not let her shaking show. If she could only regain just a tiny bit of the poise and strength that she has gained over the years of being the Princess of Selphia - now is the time she needs it most.

Quirking a smile and nodding in acknowledgment of her determination, Leon continues, "The fact that they started the fire in the grand entrance hall, right in front of your doorway clearly shows their intent. They were aiming for your room specifically, and wanted to cut you off from one of your possible exit points. And the way that you slept so deeply until the fire was at its strongest point? I doubt you're actually that heavy of a sleeper - I know you, Frey, and you've got a warrior's mindset. Your senses should have had you up and out at the first sign of danger."

Frey nods, wondering how she hadn't realized that herself. The way she had woken up... she had been so tired and drained already. She initially chalked it up as a consequence of inhaling a lot of smoke while still asleep, but there is a lot of sense in what Leon is saying. If she _had_ been sleeping naturally, she would have woken up far before it had gotten that bad.

"I also have to tell you," Leon took in a deep breath, "You... weren't able to see this during your escape, but the fields behind your room were ablaze by the time we all got there."

Frey jolts fully upright. "They set fire to my farm too? What about my monsters?" she demands, setting her cup on the bed and ignoring the hot splash of tea that burns the back of her hand. "Did they get out okay? Where are they, Leon, I need to -"

"Whoa there, Princess," Leon says, putting a hand on her shoulder, "All of your monsters got out safely. Whatever enchantment was placed on you to make you sleep was not placed on your beasts - they all became aware of the fire very early on and were able to escape before it got too bad. Some tried to fight through the flames to get to you, but Bado and Forte directed them to safety. Volkanon is setting up a little camp for them all on the beach; he plans on staying there overnight to keep watch over them. Only a few of your monsters even got burned, most were completely fine. Jones is seeing to any injuries himself."

"Oh," Frey says, trembling.

"What I'm most concerned about is the reason they set fire to your fields."

"W-what do you mean?"

Leon scowls, "The perpetrator set that second fire most likely to block off another potential escape route. I'm guessing their plan was to set a third fire out in the courtyard to ensure you would be fully trapped in your room, but ultimately failed to do so."

"But... I thought, I mean, I was pretty out of it, but when I got out of the castle, I could have sworn there was fire outside too," Frey murmurs, hands running over her ankles and shins where the worst burns used to be.

Leon says, "There was a line of fire right outside your door, but it looked like it was done as a quick afterthought. The magic was weakest there, which was why Volkanon was able to douse it so quickly with a water spell. My guess, though, is that they were intending to set the entire courtyard on fire so escape would be impossible. Maybe they ran out of power for their magic or they felt they were out of time and didn't want to risk getting caught. Whatever the reason, I'm extremely grateful - if they had succeeded, I don't know how you would have escaped in the end." His mouth presses into a hard, unforgiving line.

The thought that someone deliberately tried to murder her tonight makes her shiver uncontrollably. Frey blanches. She's been in numerous fights and battles over the years, but most of those situations still allowed her to fight back in some capacity. Her life has frequently been in danger, but never while she was so totally unaware and helpless. After all, having someone intend to harm or kill her in the heat of battle is one thing. To know that someone had deliberately thought out and planned a trap to kill her in her own room when she was asleep and at her most vulnerable?

That sort of cold-blooded thinking absolutely terrifies her.

Leon drags her back into his arms. "You're okay," he whispers into her ear. "You're okay, Frey. We're all going to make sure you're safe from now on. No one will be able to get to you."

She grips the material of his shirt and finally lets go, crying so hard that her whole body is shaking against him.

"And when we find whoever did this," Leon promises, "we'll make sure they can't ever do anything like this again to you, or to anyone else."

* * *

 _Dun dun dunnn! And the mystery continues!_

 _Thank you to any and all readers of this little story - and a huge thank you to the ones who followed or favorited this fic after that short little prologue I gave you [and an extra big hug goes out to the Guest reviewer, who made my day]!_

 _Please stay tuned, the next chapter will be up in a few days I believe._ _Hope you all enjoyed the bit of LeonxFrey interaction in this chapter, there is certainly more to come! Oh, and i_ _f you have a free moment, certainly drop me a line and let me know how I'm doing!_

 _Best,_

 **evergreenlove**


	3. Shadow

**From the Ashes**

 **by** _evergreenlove_

 **.:chapter 2:.**

 **A/N:** _Hi there, quick note from the author - I should have done this earlier, sorry - but this is my official warning that there will probably be major game spoilers in this fic (definitely the 1st and 2nd story arcs, possibly the 3rd as well). I may utilize backstories or Town Events that encompass OTHER characters besides Leon, so be duly warned. No character or event is off-limits, and may be referenced in this story!_

 _Also,_ **disclaimer** **:** _I do not own Rune Factory or its characters. I'm just writing a fictional story here to satisfy my immense fondness for the LeonxFrey pairing. Don't mind little ol' me!_

* * *

The morning after the fire dawns grey and murky. Frey dozes in fits and bursts, exhausted but unable to stay fully asleep. She stares out the window as the smoke-stained sky lightens bit by begrudging bit. Leon, who is sitting up against the corner where the bed meets the wall, watches her through slitted, sleepy eyes. With a mutual sigh, they both silently agree to give up on pretending to rest, and rise from the bed.

"Thanks for staying last night," she says softly.

"Don't mention it," he replies, walking over to the cold teapot of water on the bedside table. He holds the china in both hands delicately and infuses just the tiniest bit of magic into his palms, letting the water slowly but surely come back to a boil. Pouring them both a cup of tea, he gestures at her hip. "How's it feeling?"

 _Stiff from sitting up all night_ , she doesn't say. "Not too bad."

Some knocks at the door. "Um, Frey? Are you awake? It's Xiao Pai."

"Oh. Come in!"

"Good monrig!" Xiao Pai says, smiling tentatively as she enters. At that very moment, Frey realizes just how this all might appear, Leon being in her room in his pajamas so very early in the morning - but if Xiao Pai is shocked or confused by his presence, she doesn't let it show.

"Hey, Xiao Pai, isn't it supposed to be 'Good Morning'?" Frey asks.

"Hm?"

 _Did she not hear me or did she just not understand me_ , Frey thinks, amused despite herself.

"Mama sent me up here with breakfast," Xiao Pai explains, both hands obviously empty.

"Dare I ask what happened to it?" Leon drawls with a twinkle in his eyes.

The short girl scuffs bashfully at the ground with one slippered foot. "Well... I may have dropped it in the kitchen. But don't worry, Mama made too much food in the first place, so she'll be up here soon with new plates." She digs into her pocket and pulls out a note. "Oh, and here's a note that Mr. Volkanon left for Frey earlier this morning!"

The note is written in Volkanon's fastidiously fancy cursive, making it somewhat difficult to decipher. She feels Leon drawing closer to peer over her shoulder and reads aloud, "He wants me to know that all my monsters are safe on the beach. And apparently, the butlers' wing is mostly undamaged, so I should head on over there after breakfast to get some new clothes."

It helps considerably, she realizes, to have clear and concise directions to follow. Feeling a bit more grounded, she sits at the small table in the corner of the room to finish her tea. Leon joins her, slouching in his seat so his long legs almost brush up against hers.

"Breakfast first," Xiao Pai insists, "Then a nice hot bath! We have some therapeutic bath oils and salts that should help with any aches or pains from yesterday."

Frey nods. "That sounds great." It really does, now that she thinks about it. Suddenly, she's aware of every bit of grime and dust, every point of pain or dull ache on her body.

"Can I borrow a towel for my bath?" she asks eagerly as soon as Lin Fa appears.

"Of course! I'll get you one fresh from the dryer, our absolute fluffiest!" she replies, bustling back downstairs with her daughter in tow.

Frey picks at a roll filled with cream and some scrambled eggs impatiently, not very hungry. Leon takes a long look at her mostly full plate, but says nothing as she gets up to leave. Instead, he ruffles her hair playfully. "Hey, I'm going to go find Volkanon while you do your thing. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay!" Briefly, she thinks about thanking him again, this time for _everything_ , but as if sensing her sentimental thoughts, Leon smirks and shoos her away with a dismissive hand.

The painful experience of going down the stairs with a bum leg barely dims her enthusiasm for a good scrub; she hobbles at full speed to the women's bath and sheds her clothes in record time. Finally, she slips into the water with an indecent groan, practically feeling the dirt and grime float off her skin.

A moment later, Lin Fa enters, holding a towering stack of towels. "Here, Frey, fifteen of our fluffiest towels, just like you requested!" she says cheerily.

Eyes wide, Frey nearly chokes at the sight. "Wha -? Uhh, Lin Fa, I only asked for _one_ towel..."

"One?" the inn owner cries, setting the stack of towels down next to the bath. "I could have sworn you said fifteen! Although now that I think about it, that does seem like a few towels too many..."

 _A few?! Try_ fourteen _too many!_ Frey laughs awkwardly. At that moment, the door to the women's bath room bursts open and a huge group of girls walks in, chattering loudly. Frey tries to count them all, and sure enough, there are exactly fourteen new clients who all grab from the towel pile as they spread out over the huge bath.

"Your luck is almost frightening," the princess says in awe. Lin Fa just laughs and gets back to her feet, leaving Frey to finish up. Picking up her washcloth off the bath's tiled floor, Frey scrubs furiously at her limbs, finally able to remove the most stubborn soot stains.

Her hair is a lost cause, as she guessed last night. She gives it a rough rinse, then tosses it back into a high bun to get it off her neck. Maybe Clorica or Vishnal can help with that later. Letting the indistinct conversation of the other patrons relax her, she slides neck deep down into the hot water, and tries to fortify herself for the day ahead.

* * *

By the time she leaves the Bell Hotel about a half hour later, Frey feels much more relaxed. Dressed in a frock that Lin Fa was able to dredge out of the depths of her closet and without her trademark hairstyle, it seems she's mostly unrecognizable as the Princess of Selphia. Most travelers or townsfolk pass by without a glance, which is why it is somewhat surprising when, five minutes into her walk to the palace, a black and purple blur pops out at her.

"Frey!" cries the blur, enveloping her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alright!" Clorica pulls back just enough to look her princess over, head to toe.

"C-Clorica!"

"Oh, this outfit won't do, let's get you some clothes that fit you, hm?" The butler-in-training grabs her friend's hands, half marching half dragging Frey behind her. Her normally drowsy expression is replaced with one of determined focus. Frey gives in with a sigh and allows herself to be tugged along.

When they reach the courtyard, Frey feels her stomach drop. The entire right half of the palace - her living quarters and a good portion of the receiving room where Ventuswill used to sit - is a charred, black mess. A thick layer of ash covers the ground and huge pieces of rubble block off most of the courtyard.

"How long did it take them to get the fires out?" Frey asks quietly, horrified.

"A couple of hours," Clorica admits, "We were lucky that a lot of mages live in town, since the only real way to extinguish fire magic is with water magic. It's going to take some work to get everything fixed up again, but Mr. Volkanon thinks we can get most of the rebuilding done by Fall."

"We will," Frey says. She straightens her shoulders and forces that terrible mix of guilt, terror, and sadness out of her mind, instead focusing on the feelings of determination and purpose that have been steadily building in her since last night. "I'll make sure of it."

Clorica ushers her into the butler's quarters that she, Vishnal, and Volkanon share. True to Volkanon's word, the fire hadn't touched their rooms - it had instead ended right outside the entrance to their living area, out in the hall. Frey can see a fine, translucent shield shimmering in the doorway that neatly blocks out the thick smoky air from the wreckage.

A pile of neatly folded leggings and a white button-up shirt is deposited into her arms. "Here. I'm afraid I don't own too many casual clothes, but I thought you could wear some pieces of my uniform until the seamstress is done with your new wardrobe. We're pretty close in size, so they should fit."

Frey changes behind a small folding screen Clorica has near her closet. Luckily, the maroon leggings are more pants-like than she first thought; the material is thick and sturdy, and they settle high up on her stomach. She tucks the white shirt into the waistband, and pulls on a large black cardigan with gold buttons that she leaves open.

"I also have an extra pair of my shorts to go over the leggings, if you'd like," Clorica calls from the other side of the screen. Frey takes a moment to picture herself in the green, poofy shorts that the lavender-haired girl somehow manages to pull off on a daily basis and...

Yeah, no, she'd look ridiculous.

"I think I'm good," she says, giggling to herself. "Do you have a mirror I could use?"

"Yes, over this way."

Clorica leans next to the mirror, watching with a small smile as Frey surveys the finished product. The white shirt is quite plain, but the edges of each cuff are cutely ruffled, poking out from the sweater's black sleeves. The maroon coloring of the leggings makes her look even paler than usual, but they fit decently enough and they're pretty comfortable. To complete the picture, Frey removes her hair tie, her damp locks tumbling down in an unruly mess over her shoulders.

"I was wondering if you could take a look at my hair," Frey says, holding up the severely burned strands.

Clorica winces in sympathy. "Yeah... that looks bad."

A pause. Silence.

"Right, um. Would you be able to help me with it?"

Sheepishly, she says, "Sorry, Frey. I usually ask Vishnal to cut my hair. I'm terrible at that sort of thing. Maybe Dolce is done helping at the clinic and can do it? She's so handy. Oh, or Meg, though I think she's with Amber in Yokmir Forest today..."

"No, no, don't worry about it," Frey protests. "I can wait for a cut, there's no reason to hurry." _Save for my own vanity_ , she thinks to herself wryly. "Maybe for now I can just put it in a braid or a ponytail to hide the worst of it."

Gathering all of her hair at the back of her neck, she contemplates a low braid. However, she realizes quickly her hair is too long for her to braid easily by herself. Clorica's hair is always braided, though - maybe she could help with this part...?

"Zzz... zz..."

Hm, nope. Frey shrugs and laughs quietly.

" _Boo_."

"AAHHH!" Frey shouts, nearly yanking out her own hair in her surprise. "Wha - LEON. That was horrible, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Leon leans against the entrance, smirking. "Just checking to see if you were on your guard."

"Wha...?" asks a sleepy Clorica, now awake but still unconcerned.

"You're a terrible person," Frey retorts, whirling back around to face the mirror. She quickly throws her hair into a single neat ponytail, swinging her head side to side. She watches the one lone tail swish along with it. She sighs. "This feels weird!"

"Sorry, Frey," Clorica says. "But until we can get your hair evened out, your twintails would just be all lo-o-oopsided-" she yawns.

The princess sighs. "I know. It would look ridiculous. Guess I'm sticking to the single ponytail until someone can fix it... or maybe I should just cut it all off?"

The sound of a fan snapping shut pulls her attention away from her reflection. "It might be easier to move around with shorter hair," Leon says thoughtfully. "Certainly less risk of being grabbed when you're in a battle."

Moving closer to her, he peers intently into her face. "Your face would be framed nicely, too. Hmm, all good points, and yet."

He runs a hand through her single ponytail, the fine strands falling through his fingers. Frey feels her face blaze up from the contact. "I think I prefer it long," he finally says, twirling her hair gently.

Frey gapes at his boldness and looks off to the side to see if Clorica is reacting with similar disbelief. The butler in training is slumped on the ground, snoring again and very obviously not paying any attention.

"Why would I care about _your_ preference for _my_ hair?" she finally sputters, knocking his hand away.

"Well, you're the Princess of Selphia, and the princess belongs to her kingdom, does she not? As a concerned Selphian citizen, surely that gives me at least some say," he retorts, his cheek twitching from the effort to keep a straight face.

Rolling her eyes, Frey takes a step back. "My hairstyle definitely does not fall under the category of Official Royal Business, jeez.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" Scowling, Frey changes the subject by asking, "What did Mr. Volkanon want to talk to you about anyway?"

Smiling, Leon says, "Oh, just a little of this and a little of that. It would mostly bore you. Where are you headed next, Frey?"

"I want to go check on my monsters. Volkanon's note said that Jones would be done checking them over by mid-morning," Frey says, heading over to Clorica's bedroom area and snatching a pillow off her bed. Gently, she wedges the pillow between the sleeping girl's head and the wall, then tugs Leon quietly out of the butlers' quarters.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" he asks casually.

"Not as long as you keep your teasing to yourself," she replies sweetly.

* * *

"Oh, girls, are you all okay?" Frey asks, hands coming up as her fairies whirl around her head, chittering excitedly at the sight of her. The bright colors of red, blue, yellow, and green are a welcomed sight and almost bring tears to her eyes.

Greta, the wind fairy she had once met trapped and hurt on Maya Road, bumps her tiny head against Frey's cheek, nodding vigorously with a smile. The others tug fondly at her hair and fingers; Aine the water fairy spritzes a tiny jet of water playfully at her nose.

As she's wiping at her face, her silver wolf, Argent, limps over. The very sight of Argent's gingerly bandaged foreleg makes her heart constrict painfully.

"Hey there," she says gently, getting down on her knees to wrap her arms around him. "Are you okay, Argent?" she whispers, ruffling the scruff of his neck.

He licks at her palm soothingly, whining at her distress.

Loud, ground-shaking footsteps tear her attention away. Frey's head snaps up, and sure enough, just as she suspects, there comes her Elefun Lucy charging toward her at full force. Before she can even draw in a breath to tell Lucy to stop, Leon pulls away from his conversation with Jones to step in between them. He holds his hands up and says in a firm voice, "Woah, there!"

Lucy scrambles to a stop, but can't stop her trunk from bumping directly into Leon's chest and face. He grunts at the slight impact, but holds his ground and begins to pet the overly excitable Elefun to help her calm back down. "Doesn't quite know her size, does she?" he asks, amused.

Frey can't help a small smile. "No, she thinks she's as light as a Cluckadoodle."

"Yeah, as light as a Mamadoodle, maybe," Leon mutters in return, keeping up his gentling motions. Lucy peers around his shoulders and sends a pitiful look at Frey, a little sulky at being intercepted.

Frey steps up to stand side by side with Leon and begins to pat her down as well. "I'm glad to see you too, Lucy," she says. "I heard you helped guide a lot of the others out of the barns before the fire got too bad. Thank you."

"What a smart girl you are," Leon says.

Lucy stomps in excitement.

Taking a quick glance around the makeshift camp, Frey does a silent head count. There are her four Cluckadoodles and three Buffamoos, dawdling over in a large wooden pen. All of her fairies are accounted for, as well as her Butterfly Demon Sia, Marion the Marionette, and Axel the Lightning Horse. Gantz the Ogre is hard to miss, his gigantic, hulking form plopped down right in the center of the beach with Pam the Palm Cat perched on his lap.

Something deep inside her seems to relax as she takes stock of all of her companions. She breathes a little easier, watching Axel chase Sia around the beach and Pam climb all over Gantz almost like any other normal day, the change in locale of seemingly little importance to her crew. A huge part of her secretly worried that they would be frightened or _changed_ somehow, that they would now look at her with accusation instead of affection.

She's glad to know they're stronger than that. It reminds her that she can be strong, too.

"Frey," Jones says, interrupting her train of thought. "I can assure you that your beasts are in the best care possible here. Why don't you head on over to the Tiny Bandage for a quick follow-up? Nancy has a few potions that will help with the pain. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

"Okay," she says agreeably. "I can go now. And Jones – thank you, for taking care of them." Frey gestures widely at her monsters. The doctor merely smiles and inclines his head. She turns to Leon, who is still gently patting a besotted Lucy. "I guess I'll see you later then. Back at the Inn?"

He gives her a small salute in agreement.

* * *

At least, she thought it had been in agreement. About ten minutes after "splitting up" with Leon, however, Frey notices she's being followed.

Poorly.

Rolling her eyes, she decides to just ignore him. Surely he'll get bored and stop soon enough, she reasons, and she really has a lot she needs to get done today.

Except... as she heads to the Clinic... after her trip to Meanderer Blacksmith... on her way to the Sincerity General Store... afternoon turns to evening, and still, her fox-like shadow shows no signs of leaving.

"You really don't have to follow me, you know," she finally says, whirling around to face her stalker with an exasperated expression.

Leon closes his fan and points it at his chest, even having the gall to affect a surprised look. "What? Who? Me? I'm just going about my day. Is it so crazy that I just so happen to be heading in the same direction you're headed?"

Frey taps her foot against the ground, arms crossed. "Since you've been headed in the same direction as me all morning and afternoon, I'd say yes."

"Wow, what a funny coincidence. Fate's obviously pushing us together - maybe we should just give up and be travel buddies, then," he replies smoothly, stepping up to walk beside her.

"You're too much," Frey grumbles, reluctantly conceding temporary defeat. "I was planning on going to the general store to purchase some supplies, then spend the rest of the day working on clearing out the debris from the fields."

Leon makes a harsh noise, like a buzzer for a wrong answer. "BZZT. No can do, Princess. Pick another option."

Managing just barely to rein in her desire to throw her arms up in the air and ask the universe _WHY_ , Frey demands, "What do you mean, no? If I want Moon Farm back up and running anytime soon, there's a lot of work that -"

"That other people will handle, for now," he interrupts. "Frey, you're still limping and you're exhausted. You didn't sleep at all last night and you're in no condition to do back-breaking physical labor."

"Well, I have to do _something_!" she huffs, very pointedly ignoring his concern.

"How about dinner?" he suggests with a raised eyebrow.

"... dinner?"

"Yeah, or lunch," he says with a wry smile, "You know, the two things you completely forgot about today? They involve food?"

It only takes Frey a few seconds after Leon says the word 'food' to realize she's actually starving. Her annoyance at their argument dissipates immediately as her mind changes gears. Sheepishly, she says, "Oh, yeah. Dinner. I... may have forgotten about that. That's probably a good idea. Should... should we go to Porcoline's?"

Leon smiles. "Whatever you want, Princess."

* * *

"Oh la la laaaa~ Are you two on a dateeee? Wait! Frey, are you cheating on moi?!"

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Frey mutters, pouting at Porcoline who is now twirling dramatically behind the counter.

"I thought we had something special!" the chef wails.

Leon is laughing not so subtly behind his fan. He moves in and places his arm across Frey's shoulder, leaning in close. "What makes you think we're on a date?" he asks innocently, pulling the sputtering princess of Selphia into the curve of his body.

Porcoline flops to the floor in a dramatic faint.

Frey shoves away the offending arm, giving him her best warning glare. She peers over the counter and asks, "Um, Porcoline? Are you okay down there? ... Can we please order now?"

Sniffling, Porcoline jumps back to his feet, grabbing a mutton chop from the pocket of his apron and taking a huge bite. "Mmm~ I guess so. Food is the only comfort I have left now... OooOooOOhh, wait, this is delish! Would you care for a bite, Frey?"

Eyebrow twitching at the mutton chop thrust in front of her face, Frey tries to smile. "N-no thanks, can I just order my own food instead?"

"We'd like one order of Salted Rainbow Trout, one order of Curry Rice, and one order of Dumplings," Leon cuts in. "Oh, and one slice of Chocolate Cake for dessert, maybe a few cookies if you've got 'em."

He gently shoves Frey in the direction of an empty table. They take their seats, sitting directly across from each other. They both watch distractedly as Porcoline begins cooking their dishes - he continues to sample both the Curry Rice and the Salted Rainbow Trout until they're gone.

"NOOOO~~~!" He cries out, looking horrified; he even has the audacity to appear shocked, as if he has no idea how this happened. This expression lasts for a few seconds, before he relaxes and simply pulls out the ingredients for Attempt #2.

"Watching him manage this place is like watching a one-man show. You basically get free entertainment to occupy you until you finally get your food," Leon says.

"I always wonder how he stays in business," Frey laughs, unable to stop herself from fiddling with the end of her single ponytail. "I guess his food is too good to pass up, even in the face of his weird personality quirks."

"Mm," he replies in agreement.

"I always like watching the newcomers," Frey admits in a conspiratorial whisper, "The moment they realize that Porco is eating THEIR food, they get all confused. They never know what to do. It's hilarious! Oh, look, there are a couple over there by the door."

Leon scans the restaurant briefly. His eyes land on one such customer who is standing stock still in the middle of the doorway, watching the chef in sheer bafflement. The man is visibly torn between wanting to try the famous Porcoline's food and running out of the restaurant at full speed. Leon laughs loudly at the weirded-out, hungry look on his face.

"Shhhh!" Frey shushes around her giggles. Leon quiets his own laughter, but if anything, the situation only gets funnier. His shoulders shake with the force of his own quiet hysterics.

"My my, looks like this little love fest is going swimmingly!" Porcoline cries out, coming over with their food in hand. Even laden with dishes, there's a certain odd grace to the chef as he twirls in front of the table. "Ta-DAAAAA! Hope it's super-mega-delish! AND! Everything's on the house!"

Before she can say a single word, Porcoline wags a finger at her. "Now before you try to argue, Frey, I'm going to have to insist. We all just want our Princess back in fighting shape, now." He pirouettes away.

Staring after him, Frey smiles and says fondly, "Seriously. What a weirdo."

The food is, of course, absolutely delicious. They both tuck in with enthusiasm.

"I didn't think you liked sweets," she says later as Meg sweeps away their dinner plates and Dylas arranges the desserts in their stead. She eyes the slice of chocolate cake greedily and tries to subtly pull it in front of her without Leon noticing.

"I don't necessarily hate them - but most baked goods use milk in their recipes, which... eugh. Disgusting."

"So then why -"

"I ordered them for you, Princess," he says. "Don't you think you deserve something a little sweet after all you've been through?"

Frey stares at him, touched. "Leon..."

Leon continues, "And it just so happens that every time you eat a piece of chocolate cake, you always shove all of it in your mouth at once. You look exactly like an excited Chipsqueak when you do that."

She whacks him in the shoulder, unable to respond verbally since at least half of the cake is currently in her mouth. Chocolate crumbs fall from her pursed lips. The guardian of Leon Karnak only smirks, point proven.

"It's good to see you stuff your face, Princess," he says as she swats him again. "I'm being serious here, stop hitting me already!" He laughs. "It's been a little worrisome, watching you run around and overextend yourself so soon after everything. I know you're trying to keep your mind off of certain things, but instead of concentrating on all the work you think you have to do, why don't you let us help you out with the town so you can just focus on yourself right now?"

Frey keeps her gaze directed at the table, running a finger through some chocolate crumbs on her plate. "What else is there to focus on? Rebuilding the palace and taking care of Selphia are the most important things."

"Hm, let me point out the obvious first," Leon says, "You're not fully healed from all your injuries, so even though you want to run around and lift rubble, you just can't. Doctor's orders."

Frey bites her lip.

"You're not eating, either. You barely touched breakfast this morning and if I hadn't reminded you, who knows when you would have finally remembered to feed yourself."

"Yes, okay," Frey says gloomily.

"Then there's the issue of your safety. All day you've walked around like an air headed Wooly. You were so zoned out, it would have been incredibly easy for someone to ambush you."

"I noticed _you_ were following me," she retorts.

He raises a brow. "Yes, but only because I wanted you to. If I had wanted to remain hidden, you would have never seen me coming."

"Well that's -" Frey sputters. Then she actually tries to think back to her day, and realizes how much of it seems a weird sort of blur. Her shoulders slump and she sighs. "Right, so you may have a point there..."

Leon's tail lashes smugly behind him. "Of course I do," he purrs. "So in deference to my impressive observational prowess, I want you to do me a little favor." He waits until she finally looks up from the table and meets his serious gaze. "Rely on me. Rely on everyone, if only for a little bit. Let us help you, Frey, and don't continue pushing yourself too hard too soon. We need you, yes, but we need you for the long haul, not just for today or tomorrow. Ensure that you're our princess from start to finish. Okay?"

Frey wipes away a few stray tears. Her voice cracks. "You got it."

Leon nods, pleased. "Oh, and one more thing. Volkanon and I agree that until we figure out exactly what's going on and who's responsible for last night, you shouldn't be left alone – especially while you're still healing."

Frey opens her mouth instinctually to argue.

"Ah ah ah," Leon cuts in. "No arguing please. Just think of yourself as an actual princess, and me your lowly but devilishly handsome knight coming to the rescue."

"Oh, well, if that's all," she says dryly, "Is there anything _else_ , Sir Leon?"

"Nope, that should be all, My Lady," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "Unless you want to revisit that discussion about your hair."

* * *

After dinner, Leon tries to convince Frey to head back to the Inn to try to catch up on her rest. When convincing turns out to be too laborious a task, he defaults to just annoying her into it, which is far more effective – he'll have to remember that for the future. After only a few minutes of badgering her nonstop, she leaves for the Inn, muttering unattractively under her breath.

"I'll be watching you from here," he calls after her, delighting in the glare she sends back his way. "So don't think you can pull a fast one on me and go somewhere else!" Leon watches as she disappears down the street – from this distance, he can just barely see Xiao Pai stumble down the steps of the bathhouse to welcome Frey back.

Satisfied that she's in good hands for the moment, he heads to the other side of Porcoline's complex where Arthur's office is.

"Good evening, Leon," Arthur says at the door. "I'm glad Mr. Volkanon was able to pass along the invitation. Please, come in."

As he takes a seat, Leon notes that Kiel is already sitting on one of the couches. The younger boy looks up from where he is scribbling away to give a small smile in greeting then almost immediately ducks back down to continue working in his notebook.

Arthur is similarly engaged with the pile of books on his desk. Leon's mischievous side perks up at the obvious opportunity to cause a little mayhem, but he manfully suppresses the urge. Kiel looks uncharacteristically focused and Arthur seems almost harried as he flips through several tomes; instinct tells Leon he would very quickly regret messing with these two in their current states.

Leon doesn't have to wait too long for entertainment, however; just a few minutes later, the sound of obnoxious squabbling is heard from outside. Doug and Dylas enter, one after the other, already bickering heatedly. A severe look from Arthur seems to shut them up, if only temporarily. Cowed, they both scuttle over towards the hallway leading to the restaurant.

Flicking his fox ears around, Leon listens closely to what is happening in the other room. The sound of glass clinking together tips him off to the fact that the two hotheads are most likely pouring themselves drinks. Arthur, who normally would try to keep them in check, is now hunched over Kiel's notebook and paying little attention. Leon wonders if he should say something - those two drinking together always leads to the same predictable result - but in the end, chooses to keep quiet. After all, just because it's predictable doesn't mean it isn't still amusing as hell.

He decides against a beer himself, instead going to pour a nice, steep glass of red wine from Porcoline's kitchen. By the time he gets back to the table, Arthur is visibly annoyed as the two rivals compete in a drinking contest. Doug chokes suddenly on his beer, swearing in defeat as Dylas continues to steadily demolish his pint.

"DAMN. Argh, chug it back faster, horseface, maybe you'll drown yourself and save me a lot of trouble," Doug says viciously, wiping at the beer dripping down his chin.

Dylas finishes his drink, slams his glass down on the table and points a strong finger at the red-headed dwarf. "You. Shut the hell up. Every time you open your mouth, you just piss me the hell off. You're such a sore loser!"

"I wouldn't have lost if Kiel hadn't poked me at such a critical moment!"

Kiel pouts, "I was curious to see if I could feel your stomach expanding due to your rapid fluid intake!"

"What the hell kind of a reason is that?" Doug says, bewildered. Leon cracks up.

"As interesting as this all sounds," Arthur interrupts finally, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. "Maybe we should get down to business?"

"Yes, children, let's all behave," Leon says, sounding as obnoxiously condescending as he can.

Dylas opens his mouth to retort, but a quelling look from Arthur has him rolling his eyes instead. "Why the heck are we here anyway? There's a lotta work to be done with the Palace, y'know."

"We're here to set up a guard rotation for Selphia's borders," Arthur replies. He gestures at Kiel, who beams and holds up his notebook. "Kiel has been kind enough to draw up a general schedule, but now we need to specifically assign you all posts."

"A guard rotation?" Doug asks, squinting across the table, trying to read Kiel's fine print.

"Yes. We have plenty of knights under Forte who have volunteered to take shifts at the main gates to do security checks on travelers both entering and leaving the city. But we also need to try to be proactive, which is why we're looking for some of our stronger warriors to patrol outside of Selphia."

Doug asks, "You mean, to try and find whoever set the fire? They could literally be _anywhere_."

"I believe they're closer than you think," Arthur argues. "The palace in Selphia has a deceptively open design - no real doors, a simple layout. But there's a reason for that. When it was originally built, it was encased in high-security protection wards. People who seriously bore ill-will against the Divine Dragon or the royal inhabitants were physically stopped by those barriers and could not enter."

"But Doug was able to get in, no problem, even when he was all -" Dylas twirls his finger in slow circles next to his head in the classic 'crazy' gesture. Flushing angrily, Doug kicks him under the table.

"You goddamn horse-faced, mud-munching asshole! Why you gotta bring that up, huh?"

Wincing in pain, Dylas grumbles, "It was just a joke, damn it!"

"That was probably because the wards recognized you as basically harmless," Kiel pipes in, completely clueless as to how that sounds.

"Bwahaha!" Dylas laughs, clapping a hand over his mouth. _Kickkickkick_. "OUCH, DAMN IT."

" _Anyway_ , the wards were built to withstand both physical and magical sieges. They would have had to be dismantled before the attackers could lay their first flame." Arthur takes a sip of his tea, then continues, "Even if you had a group of magic-users working together, it would take ridiculous amounts of energy to tear down those wards - and then to light all of those fires afterwards? The individuals or group that did this simply wouldn't have the energy to flee far, even with the help of the Teleport spell."

"How do we know that they didn't simply bring two sets of mages, one to bring down the wards and one to set the fires?" Leon asks.

"Magical signatures around the crime scene only showed three or four perpetrators, at most," Arthur says. "And even if they weren't hampered by exhaustion, it still seems likely that this group of criminals wouldn't want to leave the area."

"Why is that?"

Grimly, the bespectacled prince frowns and says, "They didn't accomplish their presumed goal, which was to assassinate Princess Frey. They won't risk going too far when they still have a job to do."

Silence reigns at the table as the weight of the situation weighs heavily on all the young men.

Straightening his shoulders, Doug gestures at Kiel to hand over his schedule. "Right, well, we're never gonna let them succeed. How do we sign up for this thingie?"

"I've created charts that are divided up by times and by location. For maximized efficiency, we ask that everyone sign up for at least two shifts a day, but no more than four total. No one should do back-to-back shifts, and each shift should be in a different area." Kiel points at tomorrow's chart. "See? I'm signed up for two shifts, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Right outside Yokmir Forest and the other at Sercezo Lake. Try to pay close attention to who is supposed to be at your location before you and who is supposed to relieve you at the end."

Doug starts putting his name down, eyes scanning all the listed locations. He whistles. "This is a lot of ground to cover..."

"Which makes it doubly important that we go about this in an organized and systematic manner," Arthur agrees. "The longer these criminals stay hidden, the more time they have to regain their strength. We need to try and find them as quickly as possible."

"Ah, and just as a quick side note," Kiel adds in, laughing awkwardly, "If possible, please try to take shifts at Obsidian Manor - y'know, for Forte's sake."

Dylas rolls his eyes but obliging takes a few shifts at Obsidian Manor over the next few days. "Here, your turn," he says, shaking the notebook roughly in Leon's direction.

Kiel snatches his notebook back, protectively smoothing down some wrinkled corners. "Actually, Leon is off the roster for now. Mr. Volkanon and the others agreed that his current job is to stick to Frey like glue."

Arthur nods and pushes up his wire-framed glasses. "Yes, Leon is the perfect candidate for Frey's personal security. He's strong, both magically and physically, and we all know how cunning he can be. He also has the room in the Inn next door to where Frey is currently staying, so he can literally guard her 24/7 without being too invasive."

"Ah, about that," Leon cuts in smoothly, "I actually need to run some quick errands tomorrow so I wanted to ask if Dylas could take over, just for the afternoon."

Blinking, Arthur says, "Errands? Well, I suppose that shouldn't be too hard - Kiel, can you switch Dylas' afternoon shift with Bado's?"

"Already on it!" The boy replies, scribbling away.

"I'm assuming these are _important_ errands," Arthur says to Leon with his eyebrow raised and a hint of warning in his voice. Leon chuckles and holds his palms up innocently.

"I promise, no tricks here. These errands are princess-safety related," he says.

"Hm," says the prince, not thoroughly convinced but willing to let it go. "Well, now that we've settled that, I do believe we can conclude this meeting. If anyone notices anything strange while on patrol, no matter how small, please check in with me."

They all mumble their assent, each tucking his own copy of the patrol schedule away as they begin to disperse. By the time Leon reaches his room at the Inn, the exhaustion feels like a physical burden weighing down his entire body. Frey's room is already closed up and the dark narrow space under her door indicates the lights are off. Ears twitching, the Dragon Priest stands in the hallway for a moment, trying to discern if she's awake with his super hearing and only feeling mildly creepy about it.

No movement or shuffling. Good. Satisfied for now that even if she isn't asleep yet, she's most likely lying in bed trying, he quietly enters his own bedroom. It's a complete mess - his furniture is in complete disarray from his haphazard redecorating yesterday after he had brought Frey back. His desk, chair, and bookshelf are all crammed against the far corner, out of the way, while his mattress now sits pushed all the way up against the wall that he and Frey share.

He passes out as soon as he slides under his sheets, curled on his side with his back pressed close to that shared wall. One sensitive ear remains upturned, pointing in the direction of the room next door. Just making sure.

* * *

 _SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I meant to get this up much sooner, but my personal laptop was out of commission for a few weeks (luckily, it was repaired fully), and my activity on my work computer is monitored, so I couldn't post it from there. Hopefully the sheer length of this chapter will help to make up for the wait, at least somewhat._

 _Anyway, thanks so much for tuning in and please leave me a review if you enjoyed! HUGE shout-out to_ **VampireMassacrexx** _,_ **PlaidPajamas01** , **Kaylawayla** _and_ **Guest** _who left me reviews on the last chapter, you guys make me absolutely giddy and I can't thank you enough! Seriously, I grin just thinking about your comments._

 _All my love,_

 **evergreenlove**

 _PS: If you guessed that the monsters in this chapter are from my actual game, then you would be absolutely correct! I have no rational explanation as to how I came up with any of their names, though. Womp womp._


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